


Tell Me A Secret

by supercanaries



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, Season 3, conflicted feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercanaries/pseuds/supercanaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is how she knows she is not the only one to be stumbling into this, falling into a trap that can be as deadly as a blade and scarier than death. (Lauryssa "Tell me a secret" prompted by anon on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me A Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompted: "Tell me a secret." as Black Assassin / Lauryssa (#45). I hope this is okay, considering it's my first Arrow fic. It's going to take some time to get used to the characters, and I'm so nervous about it, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thank you so much to anon for prompting me and giving me the opportunity to practice with another show!

The messier it gets, the less Laurel is willing to drop it.

You would think that during their training, she'd get tired at some point, but Laurel is past beyond that. The more intense it gets, the more she enjoys it. A while back, she has also stopped getting frustrated over her own errors. With time, she gets stronger but also more patient. 

She is more skillful with her body, more resistant with her spirit, tougher in the mind.

Nyssa is nothing like any sort of mentor Laurel has ever had – at school, at work, not close to Ted even. She is making of Laurel not just a fighter, but a well-formed entity. Of course it is not only Nyssa, it is Laurel too, who welcomes her easily, doesn't take her lessons and reproaches as anything less than appreciated guidance.

It is easy with her.

It is natural in ways it has never been.

There is an action-reaction to them that Laurel fears it might be the only flaw in their training. She wonders: since fighting with Nyssa feels like synchronized dancing, will this make of her a better warrior or an unprepared one? 

“What is it?” Nyssa asks the moment Laurel steps back.

“I'm hungry.” Laurel lies.

She's hungry for answers to her own questions, not from Nyssa, but from herself.

Well, partly from Nyssa too.

“I'm not.” Nyssa hisses.

This part is different from the way it used to be at first. Occasionally, Nyssa would insist that Laurel needs to know how to defend herself when she doesn't have the physical strength for it. It could be personal concern and affection – and it would make Laurel feel happy and then weird for being happy, but above else the thought of Nyssa caring further than for her own reputation as a trainer makes Laurel feel all vibrant in the nerves; what a silly thought – but lately Nyssa makes sure Laurel's primal skill is _advanced survival strategy_.

Laurel keeps the distance, looks at her directly.

Nyssa is inexpressive for a few seconds then she just breathes out, “Fine.”

She always looks like she knows things about Laurel that Laurel herself hasn't quite figured out yet.

“But,” Nyssa adds when Laurel is about to turn away, “Is our dinner break going to include a large quantity of milkshake I can dip food in?”

Laurel smiles brightly. “What if I did mock you though? All this time ...”

“You wouldn't dare.”

There's that tone to Nyssa's voice, stern but teasing. Laurel likes that about her, that even when they're joking, she can manage to keep the authority. It makes her so fascinating into Laurel's eyes, so charming. As a figure of course, for admiration – Laurel tells herself, but the lie is starting to sound not much believable to her.

“There may be consequences to such disrespectful behavior.” Nyssa says, looking like she's trying to hide her amusement. 

The mystery of what she is thinking is often charming too. Laurel can never be sure.

“Well, thankfully, you train me well. I'll be capable of handling it.” Laurel teases back (flirts maybe?) as she starts walking. “The consequences can wait. My hunger cannot.”

Nyssa looks like she knows there is no way she is going to win this and there is not point in insisting on having Laurel hungry rather than in strength. So eventually, the decision is made. Laurel is a bit hungry anyway. Sure, there's going to be a lot more on her plate than food, but it isn't a _complete lie_. Her hunger is a convenient excuse to drag Nyssa with her mind out of this a bit and get her to chat instead. Nyssa isn't always chatty, but their usual table seems to be winning her over.

Half an hour later they are occupying the spot. 

It feels familiar and warm. 

Laurel can't tell exactly when it started, but she isn't too surprised. Nyssa is a guide for her and was one of the few to believe Laurel could handle it. She has offered and asked for nothing in return.

When they're seated and quiet, Laurel says what she has been repeating in her head on the way.

“Tell me a secret.” She startles Nyssa out of her peace.

Well, as much as you can actually startle Nyssa at a dinner table without a knife between your fingers. 

She looks puzzled.

“We don't share secrets.” She says automatic, as if it was a belief she had based her whole life on. “That is what keeps us alive.”

“Not even with your student?” Laurel asks, teasing voice hiding her insistence (and maybe a bit of that flirty tone). 

“ _Especially_ with your student.” Nyssa offers. “You are the closest to me and the one who can strike me the easiest.”

Laurel hides the way it wounds her behind a grin.

“I would never.” She says, resting her hands on the table and leaning in a bit. “Friends share secrets.”

Nyssa automatically opens her mouth, Laurel knows what her minds suggests on instinct. She was probably going to say that they are not friends, that they're just two people benefiting from each other. The fact that she can't say it because she knows they are actually closer than that is such a relief to Laurel. They _do_ mean something to each other that has nothing to do with training, not anymore. Or with Sara for the matter.

“Why do you people share secrets?” Nyssa asks, looking sincerely interested, despite the little tone of superiority and mockery in her voice. Laurel believe it's some sort of self-defense mechanism. 

“It makes our bond stronger.” She answers, shrugging it off like it's no big deal (probably because she wants Nyssa to think it's not, so that she will talk). “If we share secrets, it means we trust someone enough to give them something they might hurt us with.”

“Why would you give that to anyone?” Nyssa asks instinctively, then looks away.

By now, Laurel has learned how to read some of her most frequent reactions. Nyssa is still overall a mystery but some things are getting clearer: right now, Laurel knows she wants to argue, but at the same time, she doesn't want to imply she doesn't trust her enough to share. 

Laurel is confused about the way she feels, both over Nyssa trusting her and over Nyssa not wanting to hurt her with words. Not long ago, most of Nyssa's phrases were out of her mouth before she could preoccupy about someone else getting hurt. She just said what she thought it needed to be said.

“You don't have to though.” Laurel quickly adds when silence is growing bigger between them. “It was a silly whim.” 

In brutal honesty, she wanted a specific answer. She was secretly looking to know if Nyssa has been developing inside her all that Laurel has. She wanted to know if it was okay to feel that way from someone who has been there already, to know if she is too deep into it not to screw them up. 

When Nyssa doesn't answer, she takes it as a hint. She drops the conversation and focuses on her dinner instead.

Laurel might look calm on the outside but inside there is a storm. 

She can feel Nyssa's eyes on her and she has no idea what is going through her mind. It is clear, by now, that Laurel is into this for something different and not just companionship. Friends don't make your stomach twirl just by looking at you across that table. She doesn't know how to cope with the idea of it, falling for a woman, being attracted to her. She doesn't know what Nyssa thinks of it, if she figured, if she feels the same. 

Laurel just _doesn't know_. 

And it's killing her.

By the time she has stared at the table for so long that she might have burned a hole in it with her gaze, she's completely given up on an answer.

It is only then that Nyssa says:

“I am growing quite fond of fries.”

For a moment Laurel simply looks up and doesn't say anything.

Clearly it wasn't the answer she was expecting or the one she wanted.

However, the more the words resound in her head as she looks at Nyssa, her deep dark eyes staring back, the more Laurel feels like they make sense to her, make sense _for them_. She can see how this is a metaphor for something else.

So Laurel smiles back.

“I'm growing quite fond too.” She says.

There's a brief frown on Nyssa's face, but then she smiles back.

That is how Laurel knows they understood each other.

It is how she knows she is not the only one to be stumbling into this, falling into a trap that can be as deadly as a blade and scarier than death.


End file.
